An Unconscious Privilege
by SoulTears
Summary: Life is ordinary.  Wake up, live, go to sleep.  So why am I falling?


**A/N**: Well, i've come out of oblivion to throw this little piece out into the open. Although I can't be sure, if there's anyone out there waiting for an update, I am seriously working on it, but Life won't wait for me, so it'll be slow in coming (although at this point THAT should be obvious). Anyway, this is an experiment I'm trying out, and I hope it's well-received... but I kind of hope it isn't. I've noticed that bad or under-par stories seem to get more reviews, if only to say that it sucked. Eh, it may or may not be true, but it is something I noticed. Enough rambling, let's get on with it!

**Disclaimer**: While I'll admit to painting my rooms three shades of purple in protest, the theft of the copyright documents is NOT my fault... ask the elephant when she gets back. It's not mine!

**An Unconscious Privilege**

Stars twinkle; it's what they do. It's the only method of communication they have and, being stars, they talk all the time. Blues, yellows, and reds all relay the goings-on of the spheres they watch over far across the infinite darkness of the Universe. Yet not even their timeless chats can pierce the sprawling structures of Cross City and all its bright lights. Each of its skyscrapers, from the Cross City Bank building guarding its payload to the towering Radisson Hotel overlooking the entire metropolis, is considered some of the pinnacle of human achievement.

Among this maze of steel and Plexiglas its inhabitants go about their business in their cars or on the sidewalk. They are all so engrossed in their own problems that none of them see the woman falling head-first from the roof of an apartment complex, her long green skirt and white blouse swaying in the wind created by her fall. Nor can they see the trail of tears that linger behind her trying desperately to return to their brothers clinging on the edge of the roof. As for her hair, a casual black ponytail, it merely adds to the enchantment her body creates as she falls to her death. Nevertheless, the circumstances of how this came to be must be explained, for nothing else if for my own piece of mind. My name is Kagome Higurashi, and I am that same woman rushing to embrace the ground from fifty stories up. The life I've led until this moment is flashing behind my eyelids, and not for the first time I am gripped with an unidentifiable feeling, an emotion that, for now, I'll call love. Since you and I now dangle in this little pocket of nothingness between Life and Death there is no better time to recount my story. It may be selfish, but I like how it goes, for the most part.

It's Monday morning where this narrative begins. Now that I'm getting into it, I might as well provide a little background. I've been eighteen for about six months at the time, and on this particular morning I was nearing the end of the third quarter in my senior year at Cross City Senior High. I could also regale you with my high GPA (5.3 as of the end of mid-terms), all the clubs I'm in (Drama, Ceramics, and Graphics, although no one knew about the last one), or even the services I provide the community (I just love old people!), but I won't because it's dull and hardly the focus of my story. So I'll start with my little group composed of best friends Miroku, Sango, and myself as the leader (obviously). We call ourselves the Three Musketeers, for obvious reasons, and could've been attached at the hip without any problems. In this special little town we were just another light competing against the billboards, but I always felt happiness in their presence.

It is this reason more than anything that compels me to give you an image of two of the most important people in my life. Miroku Shizen, the eternal prankster, stands prominently just below six feet with his tight curls always messy and those mischievous dark eyes seem to look right through you. He's not bad looking in any shape or form, I just want to point that out, but we're just too close for that. Sango of the Ishigaki clan didn't seem to have a problem with it though. That midnight mane framing her face like a quilt only made her blue eyes stand out more. She has always been a bit of an elf but will, stubbornness, and a mean uppercut compensated what she lacked in stature. It really was a no-brainer that the joker and the girl who bungee-jumps "just to try it" managed to get together. As long as they save the tongue wrestling for when I'm not present, smooth sailing all around. Now that the introductions and relative information has been delegated, it's time to go back to that Monday morning.

First of all, I am NOT a morning person. This pretty much means that if you happen to rub me the wrong way before ten in the morning, you're guaranteed a verbal lashing should you happen to be near my age or younger.

Which is why when I arrived at school, still feeling the effects of three hours of studying followed by a late-night chat session with Miro and Sango, I wasn't ready to deal with what came next.

"HI KAGOME," came the scream as it cut through the growing throng of people by the front entrance of the school. A moment later I see the owner of that banshee screech hurtling toward me from the stairs. Damn that Yuri and her caffeinated perkiness, with those bouncing pigtails (damn it, why pigtails?) and that worshipful smile. I can still see that bus jump the curb and slam that oppressively happy face into the pavement. Yep, that's not coming off anytime soon, it might even be permanent… I said I wasn't a morning person, didn't I? Unfortunately she remains alive and finally reaches me, completely out of breath the poor thing.

"Good morning Yuri, how was your date last night?" I can literally _see_ her eyes light up at my memory. Never mind that she had been prattling on about it all through first period on Friday, at least it makes her easy to please. Now that she starts on her diatribe of that "wonderful, unbelievable, and unforgettable outing" (she _really_ likes adjectives), I can focus on waking up completely and stop imagining that flaming asteriod falling on the school and getting a vacation.

Of course at this point the fouler side of teenage existence decided to rear its head in the form of a fight on the south side of the school by the tables. Like clockwork the people flocked and formed a circle around the struggling males. Jeers and curses fill the air as the student entity sways to and fro to follow the fight. I can't help but sigh at the foolishness, turning themselves into targets like that. Why not just barge into the principal's office and just fight there? It would save time if nothing else.

After another five minutes of inaction, the security guards finally show up. Brandishing their weapons, they take aim and a loud blast of sound erupts from their hands, scattering the crowd as effectively as a bomb. While the powerful air horns served to break up the spectators, the fighters did not seem to notice. By this time I had made my way over to the scene (I am human after all) and almost wished I hadn't.

Anyone who has read Dumas' "The Three Musketeers" knows that besides the soldiers that make up the title, there is another character, the actual protagonist. We were well aware of this fact when we first decided on the nickname. In order to explain this, it should be made clear that while Sango and Miroku are very close to me, the Porthos and Aramis to my d'Artagnan (guess who that is), they were not always the most important. _That_ spot was reserved for one person: Niuya Hassan. Yeah I know, I never used it much either.

It was in Kindergarten that we met. As it was only recently that my family had moved to Cross, I was still battling the effects of homesickness. As a result of this and a shortage of friends to hang on the monkey bars with, I played in the sandbox behind the school. Most of the other kids were much too mature for that kind of activity and gravitated toward more physical sports. Nevertheless, that little square of sand sat flush in the center of the playground using its body, the swing set, slides, and poles to separate the basketball courts from the track. In this way my need to be alone was satisfied without being alienated. Convenient yes, but completely coincidental. It's not like I planned it that way or anything.

On that fateful day I was constructing a castle. It was a grand affair, with four towers lancing proudly along the corners of the walls. There was a wing set aside for the servants, a parlor in the center for entertaining guests, even a library over on the south side by the garden. Plans were even set for a moat as soon as I figured out how to sneak the water in without the teachers noticing. So focused was I in my task that what happened next nearly shocked me into catatonia.

I had been putting the final touches on the northern wall when out of the sky a red and blue meteor slammed into the ground in front of me. My fortress, as meticulously designed as it was, could not repel such a force. All those rooms, the books, _servants_, gone: a total loss. As the astonishment faded I felt beset by grief at the destruction, tears springing unchallenged to my eyes. I looked up to see the culprit of my pain to find that the meteor was actually a boy in a red t-shirt and blue jeans. The blatant violation of the dress code sprung up in the back of my mind, but the rest of me was wondering just what the _hell_ he was looking at that distracted him from immediately apologizing to me. Following his line of sight up and to my left I noticed a group of tough looking boys snickering and pointing fingers at my destroyer.

"That's what you get, stupid," one of the boys said and while it was painfully unoriginal by today's standards, it kept enough seriousness to instantly direct my ire at them. Before I could lash out at an insult that was not directed toward me, the boy spoke.

"Go blow it out your ass," he snarled. I froze once more. Even the bullies stopped laughing and gaped at him. It wasn't until the demolisher turned-blasphemer began to stand that they finally turned tail and ran to their teachers. The victor scoffed at their backs before turning to look at me. I'm sure he didn't mean to, or maybe he didn't care, but at the moment he revealed the reason he had landed on my castle in the first place: golden eyes (he literally had yellow irises, it was really distracting). No doubt bored by the blank look I knew was on my face (so much had happened that I couldn't have recognized my own mother from a brick wall), he turned to see what he had landed on. One of the towers had managed to valiantly hold its ground against the onslaught and remained the only evidence of its previous existence. It was at this point that the boy did a complete one-eighty.

"I'm so sorry, I broke your castle, I'm sorry," he kept saying, the forlorn expression on his face tugging at my blossoming maternal instinct until I'm nodding my acceptance, brushing the unshed tears from my eyes. He smiled sheepishly and asked if I wanted some help rebuilding it.

Since then we were inseparable. That's not an embellishment; we did everything together. Parties, studying, sleepovers, all of it included the other. More times than I can remember I would find him lying on my bed with his arms cradling the back of his head and snoozing the school day away, my mother calling from the bottom of the stairs that if he wanted that soda so damn bad then he can get up and get it himself. At times I had to wonder what exactly I saw in him. His family was small and deeply estranged while mine could put a buffet restaurant out of business. I enjoyed school for the most part, always had the good grades. He, on the other hand, just sat around reading or doodling in his notebook, his impeccable white hair hanging over the back of his chair. He seemed my complete opposite. Of course, that's exactly what drew me to him in the first place in the end. All the things that had happened to him made him stronger, and I found his shoulder to be just as comforting. The same must've been true for him, since he made frequent use of the fact that my arms were always open to him whenever he fought and was kicked out for the night by his kin. Yin and yang, you can't get any cornier than that.

All of this, the sights and sounds, flashed like a movie in the background as I watched one of the fighters that managed to break away, stand up, and swipe the dust from his black jeans. A powerful rush of nostalgia hit me at that moment and even as his eyes turned toward me, I knew what color they would be. In that moment I held Niuya's gaze for the first time in two years.

I don't know what I was expecting. No, that's not true. I had a few ideas for if and when this day would come. I imagined that he would swagger up to me and embrace me fully in an effort to make me forget the time apart, or he would smile crookedly, put his arm around my shoulder, and give his trademark greeting- "Kags! How the hell are ya?" - or he might just walk up to me and run his fingers along that one place just above and behind my earlobe that _always_ reduces me to a fleshy pile of giggling girl, the one only he knows. That last scenario I have no idea where it came from, but the intimacy and familiarity of it was what I craved.

This Niuya didn't do any of those things. All he did was stare at me with those angrily sad eyes before being hauled away by a security guard. Once released by that golden stare, I felt my body give out and luckily landed on a nearby bench, the man in white standing against the wall not too far from me. In my efforts to understand what the _hell_ had just happened I felt an array of emotions grip me. However, the bell for the first class rang before I could make any headway in the jumble. I didn't see him again that day.

After dinner I was booting up my laptop for some recreational web surfing. My fingers moved easily over the keys as I accessed this and ran that, my mind wandering back to that morning. Time had managed to seep doubt into what I saw, or thought I did (see what I mean?). After all, cosmetic contact lenses were all the rage ever since that bitch Kaoru showed up with cat's eyes, so it's not impossible that _someone_ eventually figures out that gold would be a nice change of pace. I was tossing a few ideas around in my head when I receive the sound of a guitar riff letting me know Miroku had sent a message, Sango's sword effect not far behind. That presented another problem: should I tell them? I wasn't the only one who missed Niuya, but I wanted to be sure before I go announcing it to anybody. The clock read two o'clock when I lay back on bed to sleep, and I had not told them.

The solution came to me the next day during lunch as I walked by the entrance to the attendance office. Reorganizing myself briefly in a poster frame's reflection, I entered and heaved a mental sigh of relief to find a sophomore named Dan at the front. Catching his eye with a well-played twist of my neck, I sauntered over to him and leaned over the counter. It was over. Ten minutes later I found myself in the room where the records were kept and confirmed that Niuya Hassan was _not_ a student at CC High. Feeling disappointment bubble in my chest I tore from the room and back into the hallway, struggling for deep breaths.

"Looking under Hassan, right?" The voice made me jump so high I probably could've cleared the door if the roof hadn't stopped me. As it was I turned to my right and found the Niuya impersonator staring at me with mirth in those damn golden eyes of his.

"Aw, what do YOU know," I grumbled, unable to look him in the eye. This of course made the shock of his hand running up my cheek and behind my ear all the more potent. The gesture brought our gazes together again. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"I missed you, Kags," he said and his fingers found their destination. That one little section, found by accident one afternoon when we were ten, tingled like it always did when stimulated, only there was no giggles this time. Our gazes never broke even as the tears made his outline hazy. Then he moved, just a step, but it held the same force as a starting pistol as I leapt into his arms. I knew I should've been angry, confused, or even hurt, but the elation overrode all of that. My yin has returned to me.

Which is why what came next no one can begrudge me.

I kissed him. There in the hallway, with dozens of nosy teens loafing about digesting and gossiping, I laid it on him thick. I'm talking a lightning-in-your-veins, oxygen sucking, toe-curling kiss. Oh yeah. As the rowdy brushing of our mouths faded to him nibbling on my lower lip, I managed to pick myself up enough to think about things.

Before I get into said thought processes, I should probably say something about the seemingly unexpected affection. Didn't I say not too long ago that we did EVERYTHING together? Well anyway, as I stood in his arms and felt those wonderfully familiar lips brush languidly against mine, I thought of what to ask him. When no topic vastly more important than the other stepped up I decided to just start blurting questions, kind of wing it until I was satisfied.

That being said, events that followed went off accordingly.

Pulling away from his arms I wind up and land a punch across his jaw. It was like beating my fist against a steel pipe, but I knew that already. It was more of a mood breaker anyway. Once his eyes looked back to me in irritation and confusion, I grabbed his hand and led him to the front entrance of the school, barely passing a glance at the man in white. Once we were alone, I pounced.

"Where…the HELL… have you…been," I scream, my breath coming and going like a freight train. "Do you have any idea what's been going on? What about Miro and Sango? Not one phone call, letter, or even a goddamn postcard! Start talking or so help me," I warned, brandishing my fists, "I will beat you black and blue and drag you all the way downtown hanging from my bumper!" During all this madness he simply stood there, like a rock the bastard, eyes focused on me as he waited for me to run out of steam.

"It wasn't that big a deal, you know," he finally said, and I can't begin to tell you how infuriating that answer was to me. Nevertheless, he reads me perfectly and manages to catch my arms and hold them down before I can make good on my earlier threat. "That bitch decided to move to some backwater little village up north. It was all secretive and whatever, but those idiots found out about it and managed to dump guardianship on her at the last minute." For all those who are lost, the bitch is his aunt and the idiots are his parents. Estranged, remember? It doesn't pay to be so job-oriented when you have a kid, I guess, but that's in the past. "So when we finally arrived at that place which I think was a stone's throw away from Hell, I couldn't find a way to send word to you. There were no phones, no TV, no electricity, and barely internal plumbing. That dumbass aunt of mine finally went off the deep end. Fact of the matter is I only stayed there for about a month and a half until I hitched a ride on the only truck headed for civilization and split. From there I just wandered around, working and trying to keep myself fed. I have stories you guys wouldn't believe!" At this point I had pulled away, incredulity sinking in.

"If that's true, why didn't you let me know what was going on? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought something had happened to you! You parents didn't know where you were and I must've spent a week searching all over Cross City for you," I screamed, knowing how I must've looked. I didn't care at the moment, I needed to vent on him, show him the anguish I went through in his absence. "Do you even care that for months I cried myself to sleep?" Dangerous territory was being unearthed and I was powerless to stop it. The stricken look on his face only made me feel worse, so I closed my eyes and kept going, my breath rate rising every second as I released it all. Because of that action, I didn't see him reach for me and pull me into his arms.

Is it cheesy to admit that _that_ was all it took to make me stop? Well, it did and I found myself unconsciously returning the contact without hesitation. Not only that, I couldn't shake the weird feeling I got from the look in his eyes. Deciding not to get worked up over nothing, I turned to re-enter the school making sure that he was following as we passed the man in white.

Of course we were late (our "conversation" went longer than anticipated) and Niuya wanted to be bold. Understanding what he was thinking almost instantly (a smile on my face at this realization), I pulled out my phone and with one three-way call managed to get Sango and Miroku. Niuya had gone to get his car (one of the things he must have gotten in the last two years) so it was a unified front that met him at the gate. Sango's reaction was predictable: she slapped the living hell out of him before hugging him, biting his neck in a last show of anger. The acid bubbling in my veins at the sight I couldn't explain. Miroku was another issue. Being the two guys in our co-ed group back in the day they were obviously pretty close and being boys, they liked to show their loyalty in some good-natured fights. What happened, though, almost made me laugh in panicked relief. Niuya, no doubt sensing the mood of his guests by now, went first.

"Hey fucker," he said, a wry grin plastered on his face. Miro sneered from his place at the right front window.

"What's up shit-licker? Been to any good strip clubs lately?"

"You should ask your mom, she was with me the whole time."

"Really? Here I was thinking that your dad had found you a nice john to settle down with so you wouldn't have to fuck farm animals any more," Miro said, the sneer fading into a soft smile. Niuya noticed and tried for the final jab.

"Alright, alright, don't make a big production out of this, just get in the damn car." Nothing more was said as we headed toward downtown Cross City. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity. We had hit an arcade, a shooting range, and then snuck into a theater to catch a movie, with the coup de grace being Niuya renting two rooms at a hotel. I will never forget that night as I lay facedown on the bed with my head cradled on my arms listening to Niuya talk about his time as a hauler on a fisherman's boat, or the two months he had to sell chocolate bars on street corners to pay for rent, or even when he was hired as an usher for a play theater in some city up north that liked to show "recreational" productions. Never mind that he was lying through his teeth, his tells popping up all over the place and glowing like the neon signs just outside the window, at that moment I was just glad for the assurance that I could reach over at any time and pull his hair out clump by clump until he confessed. When Miroku and Sango shambled to their room at one, I fixed my gaze on him again.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me tonight, but sometime very soon you _will_ tell me the truth," I said, my tone as serious as my words. He tried to seem confused for a moment until it withered and he sighed, his amber eyes hooded. I couldn't have said anymore even if I wanted to. He tumbled onto my right side and automatically took two of the three pillows. Of course I wasn't going to stand for it and promptly pulled both out from under his head, knocking him against the headboard with a satisfying crack. We fought for a bit, until without warning he swung and managed to get me on the side of my head. Dazed, Niuya took the opportunity to pull me down and relieve me of my weapon. Staring up at him, I had to fight back my laughter. He just grinned.

"Go to sleep Kags," he said, stealing a quick kiss before lying down on my side. My euphoria fading, I wrapped my arms around his side, mumbled something even I didn't hear, and slept. The man in white just watched from his perch by the window.

When I stumbled home the next day, my mother was waiting. As I felt my ears burning with the words coming from that woman's mouth, I remembered that morning. Niuya had been showering so I decided I would have to do so at home (we do everything, but we haven't bathed together since puberty). Yelling out a good-bye to him, I ran out the door. While I waited for the cab to take me to school, he sent me a text message. _Don't go to school today, meet up at Miroku's_. I wasn't sure about the idea but I'm not the goody-two-shoes I used to be. Besides, my grades would hardly suffer from missing a few days, right? Justification presented and accepted, I reminded my mother that both she and I were late for our respective reasons to wake up early in the morning. Shouting a warning that the conversation wasn't over she ran out to her car. I quickly washed up, changed, and was out in less than half-an-hour. Pulling out of the driveway with a sideways glance at the man in white squatting atop a lamppost I made my way to the house where Miroku lives. Halfway there I make a snap decision and call Yuri. Her excitement made me grit my teeth, but I kept my cool long enough to ask her to take notes for me. Before she could ask what was wrong I said good-bye and hung up, by this time already parking in front of the quaint one-story house belonging to the Sanders. No sooner than I'm out of my car I see Niuya walking quickly to me. I'm in the middle of a greeting when he sweeps me up in his arms and promptly sucked my tongue into his mouth. I'm not going to go into details at this point, since I don't really feel like divulging that sort of thing at the moment. When he finally pulled away I could see him smiling widely.

"What was that for," I asked, struggling to stop the world from spinning. His smile only seemed to grow wider.

"I was starting to feel left out." He tilted his head to the front porch where I could see Miroku straddling Sango, lost in their own world. Honestly, it was just ridiculous sometimes. If I hadn't known for a fact that they hadn't done anything, I would've thought they were Trojan's most valued customers. I cleared my throat loudly to get their attention to no avail. I tried a few more times while Niuya walked over to the side of the house. I was about to start lobbing rocks when I saw Miroku's mentor point and shoot a garden hose at the writhing lovers. Yelps and curses erupted from the two as they shot to their feet at lightning speed. I was in stitches by then, two seconds away from rolling on the floor. When they demanded why he had done that, Niuya just cackled.

"How else do you separate rutting dogs?" They had the decency to be embarrassed. Once they had fixed themselves we all piled into Niuya's car again and drove off. To my dismay he turned off the highway toward Takobon Park. There was only one reason why we would be heading here and suddenly I felt overdressed in my jeans and blue blouse. Just to give you an idea, Takobon isn't really a park as it is an enormous forest stretching out from the edges of Cross City far into the horizon. Not many people come here, since it's mostly an unfettered wilderness save for a paved road leading away from Cross. The only reason you might find anyone in there is the lake about two miles from the main road. It's a beautiful blanket of blue surrounded by cliff-like structures on one end while the other has its own little shore. Years ago the four of us would come here to play Manhunt in the trees and to dive to find the monster in the lake. We were kids, all right? After Niuya had vanished Sango, Miroku, and I didn't really go there too often, as none of us could drive (just to be clear, the only reason Niuya could was that he would take the car from his hermit aunt). Once the car was hidden away we made our way to the lake. The trees seemed welcoming to me, as if they had missed me, although I'm probably just being sentimental. We finally made it to the beach and I took a deep breath, taking in all the familiar aromas of Takobon, my eyes catching a glimpse of the man in white standing regally on one of the cliffs before I turned to my friends.

"So what are we doing here," I asked.

"Here, we're going to sit down and catch up," Niuya said, his face serious. "I already told you about me, now I want to know what's been up with you guys since I left." Sango grumbled at this.

"You couldn't have just taken us to Denny's or something with air-conditioning?" Miroku laughed at this and sat on the sand, allowing for his girl to sit between his legs. Niuya sits cross-legged across from them, patting the space next to me to do the same. Once we were all comfortable the three of us regaled the fourth with stories of the terrors found in junior and senior years and the man in white watched, his pure white shoes only centimeters off the surface of the lake.

As it turns out we had spent most of the day at the lake, as evidenced by the setting sun by the time we piled back in his car. We went to eat after that, haggling with the WcDonald's waitresses about prices and laughing loudly, our sounds rising above the din easily. The rest of the week progressed the same, the venue changing up but always with WcDonalds at the end, until it was Friday. Sango and Miroku were dropped off and I made my way to my car. Just as I was driving home I received another text message from him. I couldn't tell you how hot my cheeks felt when I read the short and straightforward inquiry. _Go out with me?_ It had never been this way before. I mean, sure, we had kissed and cuddled, and all my knowledge of the male body was gathered from him, but I had never really thought too much of it. Now it was all out in the open, a simple yes or no, yet no matter what the glowing screen of my cell phone heralded an inevitable change in my relationship with Niuya. Monday returned to me, and the jumble of feelings all fell into place, allowing me to make my choice. _Sure, pick me up tomorrow._ My smile just then could've blinded the sun. The man in white was back on his perch squatting on the top of the lamppost as I parked. I yelled a happy greeting and ran to my room. I was booting up my laptop to tell the whole world when my phone chirped another message which I eagerly read. _Great, 7:00. Tell no one._ Any other time I would've found this odd, but the onslaught of newly accepted feelings blocked out any rational thought.

The next day I can't really remember, it's all a blur. All I could think about was the clock reaching seven. I was fidgeting with my green skirt when I heard a knock on my door. Asking my mom to answer it I did a final once-over before making my way down the stairs. There I found my mother embracing Niuya in a long-sleeve red shirt and black slacks. I smiled as the shock on his face turned to a warm smile and he returned the affection. After a few respectable moments I cleared my throat.

"So, ah, mom, you want to let go of my date," I asked playfully. She sniffled lightly and planted a small kiss on his cheek before moving away. I smiled my brightest at him and met him at the door.

"You ready?"

"Of course," I answered, looking over at my mother to let her know we were leaving. She nodded, a soft smile on his face, but it was her eyes that held my attention for a moment. They were sad. Brushing it aside, I let Niuya led me to his car.

I'm going to break the flow for a second to let you know that from here on I'll tell the story as it happens. Secondly, I think I just passed the sixteenth floor, in case you wanted to know.

The drive is companionably quiet. Why? I mean, I don't mind a little quiet every once in a while, but normally he would have something to say or I would have a little anecdote ready. Now there's nothing. I can only sit here and watch the streetlights pass, delving deeper into downtown and wonder where we're going. This last question, at least, is answered when I see a quaint little Italian-looking restaurant appear on my right and the car turns toward. I had never seen it before, but then again it's been a while since I've wandered this far from school. That had always been Niuya's thing; I wouldn't be surprised if he found this place on one of his little excursions. He parks and walks over to my side to let me out. I appreciate the chivalrous action, but it just doesn't suit him too well.

"Hey," I said to get his attention as he holds the entrance door for me. He turns, a small smile on his face like he had a secret.

"Yeah?"

"We both know you're not that much of a gentleman, so don't work too hard trying to be one, alright?" For a second I regret what I said as his brow creases ever so slightly before straightening. His smile manages to disarm my anxiety and he nods to me in understanding. Once we were seated and our orders sent off to the stereotypical fat Italian with grease stains on his apron, I could feel us lapse into another silence. This is wrong. It shouldn't be this way. So, in an effort to break the soundless din I asked the first thing that popped in my mind. "How did you find this place anyway?" He turns his gaze away from the fish tank near the lobby and levels with mine. I can see the words forming in his eyes and brace for the lie.

"I got bored at the apartment and decided to just go for a drive. Well, I ended getting a little lost and wound up here," he said, the smile genuine even if the words weren't. "Since I was hungry, I got me some spaghetti and meatballs, and called it a day." I can't help but laugh at the way he tried to push out an Italian accent for meatballs, and am thankful for the relief it brings. The autopilot switch in my mind flips and I start talking, so mundane and straightforward that I can't even pick and choose a topic, only watching from inside my eyes as my lips move and so do his. From this vantage point I can study the whole restaurant. The quaintness from the outside filtered into the tables and pastel-colored drapes, the single chandelier rendering the atmosphere lightly romantic, the best kind. All around the dining hall I can see other couples lost in their pastas. Bored with their shit I look to the object of my newfound affections. Oh crap, he's looking right at me! I immediately slip back into the front seat and take control of my running mouth.

"I told you already that I'm sensitive to people staring at my third eye," I said with all the sharpness and edge I could muster. It's enough to make his eyes widen, but he still recovers quickly.

"Good timing. Any longer and I would've eaten your food," he said as the waiter appeared suddenly with our orders. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, almost breaking out into a wide smile at the luscious aroma. As I reach for my utensils and open my eyes my entire body trembles. As the darkness gives way to the colors of this anonymous little place, I feel a scream bubble in the back of my throat. Where is everyone? This can't be happening! No more than five seconds ago I had seen this place alive with activity and now nothing! Looking around vainly, I struggle to comprehend.

"Wha…" My throat, what's wrong with my throat? Please, I'm so scared! Niuya? How can you just sit there and eat so damn calmly? Doesn't he see it? What the fuck is going on?

_CLAP, CLAP, CLAP!_

It's everywhere. The goddamn walls are clapping! No, I have to get a hold of myself. Walls cannot clap, so I just have to find the source and maybe I'll get some answers. Take a few deep, calming breaths, that's all. Okay, it's not so loud anymore. Behind me. Wait, the lights… what happened to the lights? Damn it, one thing at a time! Oh my god! It's the man in white! Christ he's glowing! Those white shoes, pants, shirt, vest, coat, cufflinks, and gloves, even his hair! I can't even see his eyes because of the white fedora, and that same flat elliptical mask hides his face from me. What is he doing here?

"Welcome, Ms. Higurashi, to my humble establishment. I must insist that you eat your food before it gets cold," he says, his voice feels like silk in my ears. Familiar, but why?

"Who are you," Ah, there's my voice. He's standing there, his posture so perfect he could pass off as a statue. The silence, punctured only by the sound of the fork and knife working through the food behind me, it's expanding. I can feel it on my skin. Wait, Niuya! He must be able to see him by now! "Niuya, what…" He's gone! The scream is clawing, its fangs lacerating my throat in its efforts. I won't scream, I won't! Maybe if I find my way out I can start sorting out all this weird shit. The darkness, it's so heavy. I… I can't… it's so hard… to… breathe!

_CLAP, CLAP, CLAP!_

Where am I? What is this place? It's so dark. There's a little light coming from the window at the door. How did I get here?

"You know, I ask myself the same thing all the time." H-O-L-Y shit! Where the FUCK did that old man come from? The wall… it's so damp and cold, but I can't move any further from him. This guy is a mess: white hair in clumps all over his scalp, wrinkles I could hide a quarter in, and his clothes the color of his eyes, dirt brown. Who is he?

"Don't be so loud! Fucking kids these days have no restraint," I hear him respond, still mumbling and pushing against the wall to stand. He's pretty tall for such an old man. "Although I should probably count my blessings. It's been a long time since I've had company." Even in the dark, even from this distance, even with my fear eating away at my rationality I can see the madness seep into his eyes. "Don't mind me, young one. I won't hurt you. All I ask is that you listen." I don't have time to respond before the door abruptly swings open, bathing us both in white light. Who is it? I can't… tell. NO! Wait! Where am I going? What the hell is this? The light… it's too bright… I can't see! I'm blind! The steps, too loud, they're too LOUD! The wind is knocked out of me and I struggle to get up from the dark floor.

"Kagome!" Niuya! He's here too. Oh thank God! But I still can't see. There are too many spots in front of my eyes from the light! His arms around me feel incredible. "Are you alright? Did Inu-jiji do anything to you?" Who the hell is Inu-jiji, and why the hell is he so calm?

"Silence." I obey instantly. The spots are gone, and now all I can see is white. White flowing drapes, white tables, silver candles, and the large ornate chair is white too. "Now, can someone please explain why this trash is lying in a heap across my priceless Persian carpet?" Whoa, who the FUCK is he calling trash? Hmph, that stupid-ass, Michael Jackson-looking, all-purple-like-its-fucking-okay piece-of-shit!

"And just who the fuck are you?" God, I hate him already, I'd spit in his face if I could, fucking asshole in a violet mask. Wait, he looks just like the man in white! Holy shit, they identical, down to the fedora, except one is white and the other is purple! The room, it's spinning now, so much white, everywhere there's white, and the purple bastard just sits there. "Answer me! What the fuck is going on here?"

"I suppose you think that just because you use foul language I'll answer you. You're nothing but a foolish child, and I will not stand for your ignorance and causticity in my presence." That son of a bitch!

"Kags, I have to tell you something." Why does he sound so sad? His eyes, those gorgeous golden orbs, so much softer and beautiful than anything in this room, I've never seen them this way. What is this feeling? My skin is burning. "I never forgot you, not for a second. I love you Kagome." A gasp is torn from me, causing my body to shake and I can feel my hands wet from my tears. Tears… no… not tears… blood! It's blood, blood, everywhere there's BLOOD! Why, I can't see the source. It's coming out of the walls! No, it's Niuya, there, there, on his chest! No. I can't even hear my scream over the buzzing of my head, but I can feel it in my throat.

"I didn't care too much for him anyhow," I hear a voice. It's him, and the gun, the gun is laughing at me through its smoking maw. They're all cackling, screeching at my pain. I have to get away, get away, GET AWAY! My eyes adjust to the burning white of the corridor as I run to the end of the tunnel; the broken sign above the door with the word EXIT on it looks so perfect. The door slam to the side under my weight and I can feel another scream in my throat. What is this? How did I get so far up, and why can't I see the ground floor? The dark, it's creeping, crawling along the wall toward me! My lungs burn as I run, the numbers of each floor like markers leading to salvation. Laughter, someone is laughing. So maddening, I feel like a child caught in a nightmare. The laughter dies away as ROOF replaces the number 49. Relief, I feel it bursting from me to see the neon lights of the city. The echoing of steps coming closer and closer seems so far away. I'm safe now. The nightmare is over. It has to be. Maybe now I can wake up. Niuya will be all right, I'll still be at the restaurant staring into space, and it'll be fine… please God, tell me it'll be fine!

"A crossroads. That is where you stand now, my child." The old man… did he escape the damp room? "Do not concern yourself with me, it matters not. The most important aspect rests with you. What will you choose?" I can't stand it... I can't take it!

"What do you mean," God I must sound so desperate, but I can't shake this rising laughter in my soul, even as I feel it sinking lower into this Hell I find myself in. "What is going on?" He's smiling, a wizened and sad smile. Just like my mother's.

"My dear child, that is irrelevant. There are now two realities you must face. Down these steps in the room of Blood and Despair lies the body of your love. Yet this is only one dimension. He is there, and at the same time he is not, just like you are and are not standing on the edge of a building. The time has come to end the dream."

"Dream?" I can't think. The laughter and buzzing is filling my ears. Only _he_ penetrates my madness.

"Yes, child. This life is a dream, a living stagnation of your mind. It will continue on, forever and endlessly into the abyss without falter. Only now, at this moment, can the cycle be broken. What will you do?"

"How do I know that this is the truth? Can it be that I've been dreaming? Where am I then, to be dreaming of this place? Is this the truth?" The smile stays on his face, and the steps fade from my sense of hearing.

"That, too, is yours to decide. You may choose to accept what I say as the truth and stop the dream from reaching its final destination, or you can stay on this tangent and flow onto The End." Niuya, his wonderful 'I love you' whispers in my ears, the wind carries it to my shoulders and my hair dances. The intensifying laughter is gone. Peace and determination bring my soul to the solution.

"I'll go."

"Wonderful, child. You are free." His hand barely touches my face and for one infinite moment I see his brown eyes lighten to gold before I lean away. The wind embraces me and I fall.

There's my story, and I'm glad it's over. Looks like we made good time too, only six floors left. Now, since only I chose to wake up, I leave you on this floor. Hope you find your own way out!

Alone again, Kagome lets out a giggle and looks to the sidewalk rising to greet her. Yet the concrete is not alone. Directly beneath her stands the man in white. Slowly, as if manipulating Time itself, he reaches for his fedora with one hand and the mask with another. Sliding them off and letting them fall he looks up, his golden eyes holding all the happiness that his smile could not contain. Reaching out with arms wide to receive her, Kagome lets out a happy sob.

_Inu-yasha…_

* * *

That's it. Let's see what impact it makes. Until next time... Ja 


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